The Girl

Another week,another post.It has been such a long weekend and my head was in the gutter the whole time,watching the stars and being mesmerized all along,figuratively,until my reminder went off and now here we are.I have been working on several pieces,I always want to create a scene that’s holistic,that a reader can build on and have the final picture as it is.I am a work in progress,with time and feedback,I will grow into that.

So here’s something,it’s short.

My life has narrowed down to people watching.I used to be all awkward and uneasy about it,doing it while scratching my scalp or flipping a page of a book that I’m not even interested about.I don’t even like reading,who am I kidding but people yes yes!I like the human race and everything within and without this particular kind.I have a notebook where I jot down random stuff and things I notice in the bus on my way to work or in the park where I go just to be by myself or in this coffeeshop that’s right across where I work,and it’s in this coffee shop where all things come to life for me.

There’s always soft music playing from the overhead speakers,people rushing in and out of the place,some are the loyal ones whom we have this sense of familiarity with,some are the nerdy college students who always come here to read-there is a silent sanctuary at the corner that has rows and piles of books and single armchairs and couches that have big,colourful fluffy pillows.I guess coffee and books are a beautiful,well thought out match, and then there are the interns,they are so obvious,the word I-N-T-E-R-N is always written across their faces,their body movements and their dressing.God,their dressing!Sigh.And then there are those whom I have not figured out,I was working on that.

She was one of those whom I had not figured out.She piqued my interest unknowingly.She was carefully picking her nose when she thought no one was watching her.Of course no one was,okay except me but I was not watching her really,I was studying her.

I know your thoughts have raced to ‘kiss the girls’ ,one of James Patterson’s famous novel, worry not,friends. 

She was an interesting subject;her ways of trying to escape the attention from people,of her picking her nose.I laughed gently,in my thoughts of course with a smirk stricken across my dull face.I found it quite humorous with the relief that was across her face from the satisfaction of a clean nose,with no boogies left or maybe that one,that persistent one that is always resistant,hesitant even,stuck in between the skins,far at the back, insistent of its short lived existence as she tries to chuck it.She turns abruptly,I think she wants to stand up and leave but she is taking a pack of Fay pocket tissues.I kind of know the brand names of these things,oddly enough.It is a new pack,I can tell just from the way she is handling it,like how most people handle their new packs-the silent elation that goes unnoticed,unappreciated but me being me,I know these little quaint activities because somehow they cause ripples of unending joy,through one’s body.Her lips have curved a bit,I make a mental note,she really gets excited at the sight of new things-her little stubby fingers with chapped nail polish on both her index finger and thumb of both hands open the pack delicately,careful not to tear any of the wrapper apart.She’s a cautious soul,who likes her things a certain way. She then slides one piece out and I can imagine what she’s feeling right now,the unstoppable and ineffable  pleasure of using new things.

I knew it was that last boogie that is always insistent that was bugging her,aaah, the little things in life.Her next move is quite obvious,she bows her head down slightly towards the table top,and digs in,massacring and chopping off the life of that boogie to shreds,I believe and maybe spitting some cuss words in her head.Damn that boogie,I am feeling kind of sorry for it,but then again,no,not at all.I side with her-kill it,finish it,that nagging little thing has got to come out.As she comes up,with a cleaner nose than before(I hope),her mind is elsewhere,really occupied,maybe thinking about Nairobi traffic and if she has the necessary amount of tolerance to stand it or maybe that boring philosophy lecturer who goes on and on about life and existence and the knowledge of man’s existence or maybe these are just my trivial thoughts.

As I am analysing all these,I hear a female voice right in front of me Do you mind? It’s a cold one,one that speaks volumes on how life is just not flowing with them,not going with their vibes and I immediately feel compassion for this person,this human being and then I look up and see it’s the girl I had been staring at shamelessly and she’s giving me this look that has me feeling like my bladder will burst in not less than three minutes if she does not move,anything,even the glare that she’s directing at me.

 

joymoraa©